Successor of Jashin
by Kakashik
Summary: AU. There is a reason Harry survived that fateful Halloween night… and it was not because of his mother’s love… Harry Potter Naruto crossover. Manipulative Dumbledore.


_**Title**__: Successor of Jashin_

_**Rating**__: T (for Hidan's foul mouth)_

_**Pairings**__: undecided_

_**Summary**__: AU. There is a reason Harry survived that fateful Halloween night… and it was not because of his mother's love… Harry Potter Naruto crossover._

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_**Disclaimers**__: I don't own Harry Potter, as well as Naruto._

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**Jashin's Successor**

**Chapter 1**

Normally, the brunette never took this road to go back to Surrey whenever the Dursleys succeeded in abandoning him, usually in the middle of London. But then, who would anyway, since it was filled with hungry stray dogs and sly beggars or for sometimes, bike gangs. Not that Harry enjoyed the sheer dumb luck of being driven home by some either extremely kind-hearted or blindingly drunken bikers. He preferred his scrawny little legs intact, thank you very much. Ask Dudley and his gang for further explanation.

However, today was anything but normal. Harry felt like a mockingbird to actually notice these things, but it was somewhat hard to ignore your own birthday and the series of things-that-shouldn't-have-happened. Uncle Vernon's breakfast exploded, showering him with its burning content. Aunt Petunia's carpet was smeared with the soup and quickly turned into a celluloid foot-eating monster. Dudley's perfectly done summer homework disappeared, promising his wrongful master a fat zero in the coming schooldays. Harry, between his poorly disguised laughter and the violent convulsion of his abdominal muscles, vaguely remembered being cuffed and grabbed by the cape of his neck, shoved into the backseat of his uncle's Jaguar, driven all the way to who-knew-where and dumped like a piece of trash. He eventually found it funny, that Vernon always chose London in all twenty-something attempts of abandonment, as if the respected manager of Grunnings kept a flickering fire in his obese heart that one day, London would devour the boy and spare him a normal life.

Ah, but London was an old woman who wouldn't just chew anything you threw at her.

So here Harry was, walking all the way back to Surrey while cursing his seven-year-old weak wobbly legs. He knew he shouldn't have cursed in his birthday and celebrated by choosing the most obscure road home, but they were all something special to break the tedious routine that he's been subjecting to every day. The boy was amazed that he hadn't die from boredom and lack of creativity… yet.

Without warning – not even a flash of lightning – the rain came, splashing him soaked like a rat. Harry cursed both Vernon and himself for being to reckless to not have thought of the infamous British weather. Left with no choice, Harry, after carefully watched his surrounding, resided under a tattered roof that didn't help much as shelter, next to a look-alike beggar that smelled rather heavily and right in front of a water stream that darkened horribly with all the trash it was flowing with.

Well, at least he wouldn't die from the cold and satisfy his Uncle's unhealthy obsession.

One hand covering his nose from the unholy smell that emitted from his left, Harry fiddled absent-mindedly with the hem of the beggar's cloak. The garment felt smooth and expensive in his sensitive fingers, and he couldn't help but let a seven-year-old's curiosity took over. Very well aware that the other would have killed him for messing with people's things, Harry wrapped the fabric around his hand, felling the warmth exuded from the waterproofed layer. He wished he'd had a cloak like this, for when Vernon took away his blanket, saying he was too much of a freak to earn it…

'What the fuck are you doing, brat?'

The slightly high-pitched, heavily accented voice pierced through the thick atmosphere, made Harry jump a good five feet away. Harry's heart beat significantly stronger as he stared directly into the pair of lavender orbs, which shone in the dark like those of a predator and downright gave him creepy feeling.

'I… I'm sorry, it's just that…' never before Harry found it so difficult to work up an excuse. He could lie with a straight face to the Dursleys, but here he was sweating like a pig, his heart drumming inside his ribcage as the uneasiness solidified in the air. He noticed that the stranger's shoulder was shaking slightly.

'Get in here, brat, I don't fucking want to see your corpse dangling before my eyes the next day just because of a puny rain'

The harsh voice commanded again and Harry felt strangely compelled to obey. He crawled back to his seat, secretly hoping the warmth hasn't gone away, for his bottom now froze like the Ice Age. The stranger made place for him and, surprisingly, handed him the expensive cloak with a shrug and seemed careless about his own naked torso.

'You can have it for tonight. I don't need it anyway. Don't damage it, whelp, or I'll personally hunt your arse down for the rest of your life'

'Th-thank you' Harry's legs protested against the sudden weight of the cloak. Despite his word of gratitude, the boy's paranoia – something that has been keeping him alive ever since he became the Dursleys' ward – forced him to carefully check the cloak for underlying needles, hidden poison gas, probably even C4, all under its owner's amused watchful eyes.

Deeming the cloak safe enough, Harry wrapped it around his bony shoulder, pleased to see the shivering stopped. Unconsciously, the boy snuggled closer to the stranger, who startled and squirmed a bit but eventually stayed still, silently offering his shoulder as a pillow. Harry's eyes closed for a moment.

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As the boy drifted off to sleep, Hidan finally had time to think. The Jashinist honestly didn't what he should feel right now. After all these years, he'd at last found out the true successor of the God of Jashin, which was none other but the young boy sleeping beside him. Since he first appeared in the corner, Hidan's skin has been tingling as his chakra responded to the boy's power, which was radiating off in wave even when he's already fallen asleep. Hidan could feel Jashin whisper to his ears, congratulate him for his success and assign him a new mission, which was to sharpen the boy to the fullest and together, to raise Jashin to a new height.

He hadn't known the boy's name.

In term of power, this boy was his superior – Hidan's acute sense could decipher the thick coils of chakra running along every one of his veins and an unbreakable link to immortality and Jashin self. He couldn't help but feel immensely guilty, for he'd doubted his superior the moment he stepped into his temporary territory as a miserable wet rat. Despite the power that was radiating off the boy, Hidan had thought it to be a fluke and had welcomed him with regrettable hostility. But he was just being logical: how could the successor of Jashin be an Outsider? Not to mention the brat had had the gall to poke and play with his Akatsuki cloak, which he finally gave him after recognize his true power. While the Jashinist in him scolded him heavily for belittling his superior, his ego wouldn't allow him to acknowledge some brat that probably hadn't known to do math.

Hidan groaned. His head was killing him.

A part of the Jashinist wondered about how he should break the truth into the chosen one. It would be a miracle if he knew anything about the Elemental Countries and their Hidden Villages, as well as the existence of ninjas. Hidan itched to just kidnap the boy and leave him to the leader, whom he was sure to be better than him in brainwashing. He cringed, thinking about his coming role as the teacher – Outsiders were mostly mild and peace-loving – it wouldn't be easy to convince the boy to ninja's path and especially, the successor of Jashin's path.

Nevertheless, Hidan had it all planned out. If the operation succeeded, Jashin would be immensely please, Akatsuki would have a devastatingly powerful member, and the ultimate goal of them all – world domination – would be reached in no time.

The difference between the tailed beasts and this boy, was that the latter was never a tool to be used and discarded.

Hidan decided it was time for him to alert the Leader of his succeeded mission.

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Harry woke up to the slightest movement that was the stranger doing some weird hand signs. He pouted a little; the muscular shoulder had been nice to lean on and he'd had a good short nap. He silently watched the stranger performing the hand signs again, trying to understand but in the end shook his head in defeat. This seemed to break the other out of concentration.

'Hello' said Harry. He felt like an idiot, knowing nothing to say.

The stranger kept silence and did more hand signs. Harry's curiosity perked up as he stared fixedly and inwardly wondered, how the human fingers could form such complex signs; while he'd seen some hand signs before, they hadn't been this difficult to decipher.

'Never saw a jutsu before?'

Harry restrained himself against jumping out of paranoia when the heavily accented voice rose again. What did he say… 'jutsu'? _'What's a jutsu? It feels like I'm in some old ninja movie'_ thought Harry.

'Right, you're a bloody Outsider, you don't fucking know anything. Let me guess: you don't know anything about ninja, the Elemental Countries, the Hidden Villages and probably your true power, too'

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Hidan smirked to himself; the boy was growing dumber and dumber by seconds. He could literally read the questions that sprouted like mushrooms inside his head: _Ninja? The Elemental Countries? The Hidden Villages and what… my true power?_ He promptly squashed the Jashinist inside him and snickered again, to the boy's visible discomfort.

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Indeed, those questions were swirling inside Harry's head, which he shook rather violently. Maybe he shouldn't have taken this way home as a weird style of birthday celebration. Maybe he shouldn't have stayed here and accepted things from total touched-in-the-head strangers. He could feel his eyebrows rose dramatically to his hairline as he spoke the ultimate question: 'What are you talking about?'

'Hidan'

'What?' Harry began to lose his patience.

'Hidan's my name. I know you're referring to me as stranger and crazy beggar inside that foreign head of yours. I'm gonna tell you about those things I accidentally sprouted earlier, but only if you tell me your name'

'It's Harry Potter'

So the boy's name was Potter… or was it Harry, Outsiders had an annoying habit of placing their family names last. Harry Potter… Hidan had heard the name somewhere but couldn't seemed to remember… Bah, he would ask the Leader or Kakuzu later.

'So, Harry, right? Dude, you don't have to be so friggin' stiff, I ain't gonna eat you'

'How am I to be relaxed if I'm sitting next to a psycho?'

Poor boy, he didn't know how close he came to the truth. Hidan had had half the mind to entertain him a bit, but seeing that wouldn't get him anywhere, he changed his voice and spoke seriously: 'Listen here. Your name isn't Harry Potter and will be chosen by Jashin himself once he communicates with you. And ninjas do exist'

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_TBC_

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_**A/N**: This is an overzealous plot bunny that just wouldn't leave me alone until I clicked the New Story tab. _


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